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(PSPV) Part 1 - Fall of the Master
Inside the planet’s core, a team of mechanics was hard at work on the new weapon commissioned by Lady Aalia Trioné. The dark lady herself would be arriving soon to inspect progress. She was to bring her new apprentice, a young man who called himself Darth Reinus. He was to oversee construction after Lady Aalia had left, and protect the base from intruders. “At any cost, Reinus,” she had told him, “Any cost, do you hear me?” He had nodded in reply and returned his attention to the navi-computer. And his attention had remained on the computer throughout most of the hyperspace journey. Now, his gaze wandered a little, landing on his master, Lady Aalia. She insisted on him calling her ‘master’. Never ‘mistress’, as she said it brought to mind images of a housewife. And a Sith lady was no housewife. She was a princess of darkness, a powerful force to be reckoned with. Darth Reinus’s master always referred to herself and other Sith as princes and princesses of darkness, who were ruled over by the Emperor of darkness himself, Darth Sidious. Aalia Trioné looked up to, and respected Sidious. Darth Reinus imagined himself in Sidious’s place. But right now, he wasn’t thinking about becoming Emperor. He was thinking about something quite different. The Twi’leks are a beautiful species, he said to himself, inside his mind, and Aalia is no exception. Indeed, Lady Aalia was a sight to behold, and even though she was getting on in years, she had not yet lost her radiance. She felt Reinus’s gaze on her back as she fiddled with a problematic panel on the control system, and wheeled around to glare at him before returning to the panel - the buttons were sticking, and she could not figure out the reason for the dysfunction. Darth Reinus looked away sheepishly, back at the navi-computer. Something was wrong. The hyperdrive generator was malfunctioning. They could drop out of hyperspace at any random point now. To avoid that, they would have to take a risk and come out of lightspeed before that happened. He relayed the information to his master, and she muttered a Twi’lek curse under her breath. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she said in Basic, “Get us out of hyperspace!” “Yes, master,” Reinus said, avoiding Aalia’s gaze, “I’ll do my best.” Just then, there was a jolt, and without warning, the ship slammed to a halt. They had dropped. “Give me a heads up next time you are going to do something like that!” Lady Aalia gasped, putting her hand to her head, “I am quite dizzy.” Reinus swore softly. “It wasn’t me, master,” he said, wiping the perspiration from his brow, “the hyperdrive generator shut down earlier than I thought it would.” Aalia pushed him out of his seat and sat down to examine the readout. She obviously didn’t like what she saw. “That drop had nothing to do with the hyperdrive generator!” she hissed, gesturing at the screen, “Look! A ship’s tractor beam is pulling us in!” Reinus looked at the readout and did a double take. “We are being pulled in by another imperial ship?” he asked incredulously, “Why would they do that?” Aalia’s answer was simple. Only one word: “Vader.” “Vader?” Reinus asked, “Like, Darth Sidious’s apprentice, or another Vader?” “There is no other Vader,” Lady Aalia said impatiently, “There is only the one. And let us just say that he and I are not on the friendliest terms.” Darth Reinus sighed. Quite a few Sith weren’t on friendly terms, he had learnt that from experience. And when Sith weren’t on friendly terms, they often threatened to destroy each other, and that could sometimes get rather hairy. Reinus preferred to stay out of Sith quarrels when he could, but when Lady Aalia was involved, they were hard to avoid. A spat with Darth Vader sounded like very bad news, and Reinus disloyally wished he was already at The Base instead of here. Protecting a remote planet in the Unknown Regions had to be better than getting into a fight with one of the most powerful Sith in the galaxy. Lady Aalia, however, was excited at the prospect of an altercation. She hadn’t fought anyone in years - the last time had been when she and her previous apprentice - a promising young girl called Lyria - had been tasked with destroying a small band of resistance Jedi hiding in the outer rim. They hadn’t gone down easily. Lyria’s right arm was entirely crushed under a metal block thrown by one of the Jedi, so Aalia had to continue the mission alone, slaughtering every last one of her enemies before coming back to free Lyria. The girl’s arm was replaced with a cybernetic one, and she fought as well as before, but died on a mission given to her by Lady Aalia. That was a great tragedy for the dark lady, since Lyria had been not only an apprentice, but a daughter to her. And she - the only mother the orphan Lyria had ever known - had failed as a mother, leader, and protector. But she tried not to think about that as their small ship entered the airlock. Instead, Aalia envisioned her iminent battle with Vader. He might kill her, she knew, but she was excited all the same. “This is the day I defeat Darth Vader,” she breathed, “this is the day I show the Emperor that I alone am worthy of his direct guidance.” Reinus raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t anyone’s apprentice anymore, master,” he told her, “you killed your own master, remember?” Aalia made a growling sound deep in her throat. She didn’t like forgetting things. “So I did,” she said wistfully, “so I did. For a moment, though, I felt as if I became the ambitious youngling I once was, aspiring to take Vader’s place as the Emperor’s apprentice.” She shook her head mournfully. “Alas, that dream never was made reality.” she continued, a hard note entering her voice, “But today, when I finally destroy Vader, it will be as close as I get to making my dreams come true.” Aalia was fixated on winning Sidious’s approval. Darth Reinus did not think that attempting to kill the Emperor’s apprentice was the best way to go about. In fact, it was probably the worst idea Lady Aalia had ever come up with, and as Reinus saw it, that was definitely saying something. His master was the empress of bad ideas, in his eyes. You didn’t just have to be powerful in the Force and skilled in combat to be a successful Sith. You also had to think ahead, and try to envision the consequences of a plan. That was something Lady Aalia either would not, or could not do, as most of her plans ended in disaster. Reinus voiced some of his concerns as Aalia prepared to disembark, but she waved her hand at him, and suddenly his lips were sealed shut. “Ah-tut-tut,” she cut in, “by defeating Vader, I prove to the Emperor that I am much stronger and more powerful. Also, since when did any of my plans fail, my apprentice?” Darth Reinus, aware that his master was taunting him by asking him a question while his lips were force-clamped, followed Aalia dejectedly down the ramp. Your plan from three years ago, he thought furiously at her, definitely succeeded - if your whole objective was to get Lyria killed! Lady Aalia wheeled on him savagely. “You are not to speak – well, think – of Lyria and her mission,” she broke off, fighting back tears, “with such disrespect! Lyria was like my daughter. Do you think that I do not kill myself every day with thoughts of how it was my fault? Do you think that I do not curse myself for my own stupidity in sending my little girl off without me?” A sob leapt from Aalia’s mouth, and she clamped it shut quickly. Carefully opening it again, she continued, “I raised her for fourteen years, Reinus, ever since I found her as a little child. I sensed the darkness already in her, even at such a young age, because she was an orphan. She had lost her family. She was afraid, she wanted the bad guys to go ‘poof!’ and disappear – her words, not mine – and so I took her under my wing. I was her mother, if you like. I did everything I could to ensure she knew who she was, what side she was on, and how much I loved her. But then I sent her off on that stupid mission – and she was only eighteen! And because of me, she is dead. So do not ever disrespect her or me. I do not need yet another reminder of how much I have failed.” Reinus’s jaw, released from the force-spell, dropped. This type of lecture - this type of extremely emotional lecture - was not what he had expected from his master. Lady Aalia was crying now, even as she tried her best to control herself. Holding her emotions at bay seemed only to make it worse, and soon she collapsed, overwhelmed, to the ramp, sobbing her heart out for her beloved Lyria. Darth Reinus, abandoning his hateful nature for once, rushed to his master’s side and put his arms around her. She brushed him off at first, but then succumbed to his embrace. Reinus held her for what seemed an impossibly long time, as she wept into his shoulder. He was gently rocking her back and forth when he became aware of the breathing sound, and looking up, he saw Darth Vader himself standing at the bottom of the ramp. “How… touching,” the Sith lord said dryly, “the apprentice comforting the master.” Aalia hiccupped, made an extra effort, and finally succeeded in bringing her tears to a standstill. “Impeccable timing, Lord Vader,” she hissed sarcastically, extricating herself from her apprentice’s grasp and getting to her feet. “You are becoming predictable, no?” Darth Vader laughed. It was a harsh, grating sound; Reinus found it unpleasant, to say the least. “Back off, Vader,” he warned, igniting his saber, “my master is in no position to fight you right now. I will not challenge you, but I would die protecting Aalia, should it come to that.” The Sith lord laughed again. “I will not back off,” he said sharply, igniting his own red lightsaber, “it is you who should step aside, Cai Tireshan. I have no time for a false Sith’s apprentice.” Darth Reinus’s rage ballooned immensely. “First of all,” he growled, “that name is no longer mine. Cai Tireshan has died, along with the rest of the light in me, and I am now Darth Reinus, sower of hatred, kindler of the flame of darkness. Second…” But Vader cut him off. “How can you give yourself the title ‘Darth’ when you are not even a true Sith? You have not earned the right.” Aalia could sense Reinus’s anger and hatred for Darth Vader growing by the second, and while she usually encouraged such emotions in her apprentice, now was not the time, place, or person for them. “Reinus, stand down,” she ordered, “this is a simply personal matter between myself and Lord Vader.” Both their lightsabers hissed, hers extending from its hilt, his retracting. “Personal matter?” Vader barked out another laugh, making Darth Reinus wish he could cut the Sith lord’s head off, if only to shut him up. “Personal matter?” Vader said again, shaking his head in disbelief, “You, Lady Aalia, and all you… Cyntian Sith,” he took another deep, annoyingly loud breath, “well, you’ve committed treason against the empire! By disobeying the Rule of Two, the rule Darth Bane put in place, never to be broken, you distanced yourself from the Sith order. You shall never be true Sith.” Aalia growled. “Damn you, Vader.” she snapped, flicking her lightsaber at him half-heartedly. He dodged. “You’re living in the past. Emperor Sidious has already accepted the Cyntian order, as you should also.” Reinus sighed in exasperation, hoping that this wouldn’t be yet another boring verbal battle with random lightsaber clashes sprinkled in between. Vader, as if hearing Darth Reinus’s thoughts, let out an aggravated growl. “Can it, ‘lia,” he retorted, using the nickname he knew would make her the angriest. “Can’t you see that your apprentice is itching to see a real battle?” He spun his lightsaber casually in one hand, the blade creating a circular, disc-like afterimage. The red blur burned into Reinus’s retinas, and he forced himself to turn away. “What do you say, darling?” Vader continued, “Fancy a dance with death?” The dark lady’s lekku twitched irritably. “My name,” she breathed, her voice dangerously soft and low, “is AALIA TRIONÉ, and I am NOT your darling!” Then she lunged, her blade curving a deadly arc toward Darth Vader’s forehead. It was a fatal hit, impossible to block… except it wasn’t, and the Sith lord parried the strike as easily as he would brush off an annoying insect. His own blow came out of nowhere, as far as Reinus could see. Aalia was focussed on her opponent’s lightsaber, so was unprepared when Vader’s fist came at her from the other side, connecting with her head cover, generating a metallic clang. He roared in outrage, pulling his hand back and staring at his now bent, broken, deformed bionic fingers underneath his glove. Aalia, though reeling and shaken, managed a laugh. “It isn’t fabric,” she giggled, slurring a little, “It’s that extremely strong metal, made to look like fabric!” Reinus could almost hear Vader’s raised eyebrow. “‘That extremely strong metal’?” he chuckled, “What extremely strong metal?” He shook out his hand, then growled at it when it still didn’t go back into shape. “Can’t ‘member,” Aalia slurred, tilting sideways, “But I don’t understand why it didn’t protect my head from that hit…” She stumbled into Darth Reinus and he braced himself against her weight before setting her back on her feet, where she promptly collapsed onto him again. Her lekku touched and twitched, and Reinus translated the Twi’leki easily - “I’m faking. Hold me up.” He did as she had said, and feigned concern as she slumped further into his arms, her head lolling sideways. He deactivated her lightsaber before she could cut him into pieces by accident, and dragged her up the ramp a little. “Let us go, Vader,” he pleaded, “If you have even an ounce of honour in you, you won’t continue the fight. Just let us go.” Then he leaned down to mutter into Aalia’s ear, pretending to try and reassure her, while really making a sarcastic joke. “This is just an excuse for you to let me hold you again, isn’t it?” he mumbled, not without humour. Aalia’s lekku didn’t move in reply, but Reinus understood why. Even twi’leks can’t communicate while unconscious! he thought, impressed, If Lady Aalia moves her lekku, it may tip Vader off that she’s faking. Smart woman! Vader, however, continued his advance, unperturbed by his opponent’s apparent loss of consciousness. “Ah, but you see, the thing is…” he broke off to take in a few deep breaths for emphasis, “I. Don't. Care!” And on the last word, he lifted his hand up and started to force-choke Aalia. It was by no means quick or painless; she suffered all the way to the end. Her last thought was of Lyria - I’ll be joining you soon, my darling. Then her world went black forever.